


Shaken

by desk_mess



Series: BtJM One-Shots [6]
Category: Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: Accidental Self-Harm, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Inability to Scream, Night Terrors, Panic Attacks, Paralysis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:27:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29765154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/desk_mess/pseuds/desk_mess
Summary: You wouldn't say that you're easily spooked. There's just some things from the past that come back to haunt you.Gender neutral Reader-Insert(Rated Teen for Content.)
Relationships: Beetlejuice (Beetlejuice) & Reader
Series: BtJM One-Shots [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1762942
Kudos: 3





	Shaken

**Author's Note:**

> Getting super specific again, yay. In case it wasn't clear by the summary, Reader had some experiences in their past that lead to some PTSD-esque symptoms related specifically to darkness and jumpscares. Additionally, Reader is also prone to night terrors/nightmares.  
> All of these are based on personal experience. And they suck.

You laid in bed, sandwiched snuggly between your mattress and blanket, incredibly reluctant to get up and actually start your day. Glancing at the little black box that was your saviour, you found it was only two in the morning and you still had three hours until you had to be up again. Relieved, you attempted to snuggle up again into the warm little cocoon. Your body, however, had other ideas. Not a single muscle in your body would budge. It felt as though you were stuck in a block of ice, shivers down your spine to boot. Trying not to panic, you nudged each muscle one-at-a-time but not a single one gave way. That could only mean- 

And you heard it. The  _ swish  _ and  _ creak  _ of the front door opening. 

You knew it was coming as soon as you tried to move but the Presence's manifestation was always a shock. You breathed slowly and shallowly and held stock still (like you could move anyway) as the Presence began to make its rounds. It would start with the living room, move to the kitchen, then it would glide down the hall to your room before moving onward to the bathroom and spare room. Tonight though, it seemed like the Presence had other, more nefarious ideas. It never came straight to your room unless it was planning some sort of horrific torture. But there it was. Right in the doorway. Impossible to see or hear, but ever so real. 

You watched it from the corner of your eye. Well. Watched it as well as one could watch something they could only feel. That was how it had received its name. The Presence. Unfortunately, that had also made it more tangible. 

It stood in the doorway, looking in, barely in your sight. The general rule of dealing with the Presence was to not even think of moving. It could sense when you tried. So long as you stayed calm and still, the Presence wouldn't see you and would move onward into the night and you'd be left to live as you please. Not tonight, it seemed. 

Instead of finding nothing in the room, it stalked forward and forward. You continued to watch. It stood at your bedside for a moment. Suddenly, a five fingered hand rested on your back, sharp talons poking your skin. Against your will, your body tried to kick and fight and scream but nothing moved. Except for the now enraged Presence. It widened its gaping maw, leaning ever closer to you, ready to take a bite like you were a fresh apple. You thrashed harder and your bonds broke free, shooting upward with a rasping yelp of a scream. You sat stunned and dizzy for a moment before lunging at your lamp and turning it on. 

You sat back and took some deep breaths, taking in the state of your room. Nothing was out of place. The door was still cracked open and the clothes carpeting the floor were still undisturbed. According to the clock, no time had passed at all. 

Despite the halo of golden tinted lamplight, the Presence still lingered and would do so until daylight, at the least. Nonetheless, this was an entirely new experience. Not once had one of your night terrors touched you. Never had they held "form" for so long either. Usually they peeked in and vanished, leaving you on edge for the next half hour. Tonight, luck was decidedly  _ not _ on your side. 

A crack of thunder shook the building and shattered the silence, sending you jittering. With each flicker of the lamp, the Presence became stronger. Aching pressure began to build behind your eyes but you pushed it away, grabbing your pillow, curling around it and hugging it tight to your chest. The rain pattering on the window was welcome as you started to ground yourself. Rain. Light. Pillow. Hair. If you started panicking now, you'd never get back to sleep (if you were being honest, you probably wouldn't sleep for another day, at least). Thunder sounded once again and you jumped with a squeal. Your lamp flickered a few more times before finally giving out. 

Frantically you launched at your nightstand, fumbling through the drawers until you found the smooth plastic of your flashlight. You flicked the switch but it didn't light. You tried again, feeling the Presence seeping back into your addled mind. Increasingly panicked and with blurring vision, you untwisted the light and found the battery compartment empty. Whimpering, you remembered that damn demon roommate of yours raiding the house of all it's batteries a few weeks ago. The sheer joy in his eyes when you gave him the OK told you all you needed to know: you didn't wanna know. The next time you saw him, his hair was fried, his eyebrows were missing, and his suit was smoking so you could only guess he'd blown something up. What he  _ actually _ did with them, you'd never know.

Now, you wished you'd picked up batteries the last time you were shopping. You took another calming breath as lightning flashed, the terrifying, monstrous shapes dancing along the walls, long arms and blades reaching out to you. Closing your eyes and crawling out of bed, you shuffled across the room to your dresser and grabbed your phone. It didn't have much charge but hopefully it would last the night. A third thunderclap sounded, louder than the last, and you squealed, booking it for the closet. A thunderstorm wouldn't normally put you so on edge (in fact, you generally liked them) but that stupid night terror was one of the worst you'd ever had. 

You sat down on the floor of the closet, pulling the door shut and locking it. Obviously it hadn't come with a lock but for situations like this, you'd jimmied up a makeshift door chain below the door handle. Shuffling to and curling up in the corner, you took a few deep breaths, wiping your eyes clear. You leaned your head back on the wall and caught the shadows above you shifting and you cast the light of your phone up towards them. Just your shirts. A shadow beside you writhed like a snake and you turned towards it. It was one of your dumbass roommate's balled up ties. 

You sat in silence for a while, thunderclaps making you jump and the screeching of the tree branches on the siding making you shiver. A particularly loud clap shook the house once again and you whimpered, hiccups running through it, sounding like a sob. There was a heavy rustling on the other side of the closet and your eyes and light snapped up to meet two blue-sheened, golden orbs. 

"Babes?" You tried to scream again but nothing came out but a hiccupy, squeaky sob. You flashed your light up again and on the opposite side of the closet sat your demonic roommate, Beetlejuice. He was curled up similarly to you, wearing his soft striped pyjama set. Behind him, the shadows quivered and you sobbed, scrabbling and kicking as they encroached on you. Your hands dug into your hair, pulling violently in a last ditch attempt to ground you. Large, spindly, taloned hands found yours and you sobbed and wailed pitifully, trying to fight away the shadows. 

"Babes! Babes open your eyes!" The gravelly voice came to you from across the ocean, distorted by the rippling seafoam. The words didn't compute and the hands on yours finally wrenched your fingers free, some tousled hair coming with. The hands holding yours didn't pull or snap or break or bite so shakily you opened your eyes. The small space was lit up with a soft orange glow. The calloused hands holding yours were not pitch black or spindly or taloned like you expected but were in fact more similar to the colour of light terracotta. Not only that, the fine hairs dotting the knuckles were a vibrant orange that almost blended in with the skin. 

At last, you looked up. Holding on to your hands was Beetlejuice with hair a striking mix of orange and white, eyebrows raised in concern. Behind him, shadows continued to dance and in a brief moment of clarity you were reminded of his shadow mass. You whimpered and sobbed involuntarily and Beetlejuice's frown deepened. He looked behind him and his mouth formed a small "o" as the shadow mass dissipated. He turned back to you as another wave of thunder rolled, the rain picking up even more. You wailed sharply and lunged at him, curling up against his pudgy stomach. 

It took him a moment but eventually Beetlejuice wrapped his arms around you and adjusted to pull you into his lap. The weight of his arms and the softness of his pyjamas soothed you.  _ Safe.... Safe.... Safe. Safesafe. _

"Whozzat, babes?" Oh. Did you say that out loud? You hummed and squeezed him, the coolness of his skin sinking into your nerves. Beetlejuice placed his hands lightly to your temples where you'd yanked out some of your hair. The ache subsided as he healed the ripped skin as much as a dead guy could. You leaned into the soft touches.

You opened your eyes when his hands left, not realizing you'd closed them, and whimpered, finding yourself in the darkness again. If it was physically possible, at this point you and Beetlejuice would be double planing. 

"You scared of the dark, Dots?" You hummed, nodding, and a little ball of orange light appeared next to you. Curious, you reached out to touch it but Beetlejuice grabbed your hand. "It's hot, Babes." More thunder sounded and you sobbed quietly, hiding your face against the demon's chest. "And thunder? Wow Babes, the scaring potential!" You whined even louder at the thought, the tears and sobs making a comeback. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, Dots, I wasn't being serious!" The two of you sat quietly after that, Beetlejuice leaning against the wall and you against him, the little ball of light floating peacefully over your heads. 

After you ran out of energy to be scared, Beetlejuice spoke again, surprisingly soft. "Wanna talk about it, Dots?" 

"Mmm.... Night terror." You shivered, feeling the Presence still lingering but not nearly as oppressive. "Bad night terror," you explained further and after a moment added, "It tried to eat me." It was Beetlejuice's turn to hum now, holding you tighter than before. It took you a moment to realize that he had manifested his shadow mass again and wrapped it around the two of you. It was terrifying. But it was warm. It felt no different than being in a warm room with a low cross breeze. Your mind began to feel fuzzy with the comfortable heat and the softness of both Beetlejuice's stomach and pyjamas. 

You felt safe here, surrounded by Beetlejuice's soothing shadow mass, a sharp contrast to the metaphorical demons lingering just out of sight. The storm was calming down now and the little light ball was still glowing softly. Beetlejuice made a good pillow (and blanket) and you started to drift off, just barely catching what he whispered. 

"I won't let them hurt you." 

**Author's Note:**

> Find you someone who'll sit in a cramped as heck closet with you for 3 hours while you have a panic attack.  
> Remember: You are loved and cherished and we'd hate to lose you <3.


End file.
